Here we lie,
together in form yet
alone in spirit.
Surrounded by a profound sadness,
unspoken.
Now, starved of hope
and the willingness
to change.
We are
a garden untended,
weeds and dead earth.
We cannot thrive,
here.
For nothing grows
in barren soil.
So we wait,
for the inevitable decay
to consume us both.
Our blight,
blindly spreading,
until our tainted seeds
find harbour,
in the fertile depths
of other,
naive hearts.
